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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333913">the original walls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazies/pseuds/mazies'>mazies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>our lonely limbs [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>New Girl (TV 2011)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, au: jess moves out of the loft, champagne can get you drunk surprisingly fast, gratuitous paragraph breaks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:42:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,045</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29333913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazies/pseuds/mazies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick spends a good chunk of the night longingly staring at the liquor cabinet. The rest he spends longingly staring at Jess.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jessica Day/Nick Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>our lonely limbs [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the original walls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>part 3 of my S6 canon divergence fic/s. I don't think it's necessary to read the first two to get this one in context, but also i am the worst reference for that so just play it by ear.</p><p>I had most of this written and ready to go by Valentine's Day but then the world said that i specifically have to suffer. college kicks ass and not in the good way.</p><p>sorry for the wait.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jess looks at him, one hand cupping his face and the other at his shoulder. He doesn't smile, neither does she.</p><p>Here is how it happens.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Nick does not expect to see Reagan Lucas ever again, and it's totally within her right to never talk to him because he did leave her on a train. He wouldn't want to see himself again after that either.</p><p>Nick certainly does not expect to see Reagan Lucas walk into the bar (that she <em>must</em> know he works at) on a slow Wednesday afternoon.</p><p>He doesn't really realize that it's Reagan at first. His eyes register dark hair and blue eyes, and for a moment he hopes. Then he immediately kicks himself for hoping, because he shouldn't have. But hey, Jess walking into the bar is a marginally better situation than Reagan walking into the bar.</p><p>"Hey, Nick."</p><p>His muscles almost give up function. What should he do? Say something? Turn away and hopefully someone else will think Nick's shift is done and take over for him? That one seems like a stretch. He looks around and sees that there's a grand total of six people in the bar and that Reagan came alone.</p><p>Scanning the area now clears him of the excuse to not look at her, which means now he has to. His neck awkwardly turns, a little too much shoulder in the action, as he tries to make eye contact. And he blinks, and blinks, and it seems he still can't move.</p><p>"If you're not going to take my order, I can just go in there and make it myself." Reagan drums her fingers on the countertop, her lips pressed together.</p><p>Eventually, after a few misplaced moments, Nick comes back to himself, just before he can squeeze the glass that he's been holding into shattered submission. He sets it down on the bar a little stronger than he anticipates, and it's luck (and his own lacking physical form) that the glass doesn't break then either.</p><p>"Reagan," he drags on her name a little too long, a little too awkwardly. "Reagan Lucas, Reagan of my past. What can I get ya?"</p><p>She smiles at him as if this isn't weird. She's probably noticed that Nick has not moved at all since she arrived, so she rolls her eyes and goes behind the bar to make herself an Old Fashioned.</p><p>There is no magic when she does.</p><p> </p><p>"So how are you?"</p><p>"Great, I'm great. Sooo – very good." He's gesturing once every syllable, which is a step up from total body paralysis at least. "How are you?"</p><p>Reagan sips her drink. "Good. I'm moving back to LA. Found an apartment and a roommate."</p><p>"Cool." Nick slowly starts to loosen up. He hopes so, at least. He can't use Reagan to gauge his actions because she's always taken it in stride. He has no idea where he stands right now, never did with her. "How, how's the promotion?"</p><p>Reagan looks caught off-guard by the question, like she wants to say something else but gets lost in it. "I love it. Lots of travel." She takes another sip of her drink. "Let's not do the small talk, Nick. That's not us."</p><p>Nick nods slowly, pressing his lips together and trying to back away. "I will... be over there then." He points to the other end of the bar, where there's no one to serve and no Reagan to not make small talk with.</p><p>"No, Nick, wait." She groans. "Why is it always so hard talking to you?"</p><p>"Do you want me to answer that?"</p><p>Reagan takes a heavy breath, to prepare herself. (She should just get to the point. She normally would. But this is Nick, and she and Nick have never actually been any good at talking to each other.)</p><p>Nick leans on the counter, very aware of his hands and how they're not doing anything. His forearms are stiff on the bar. "What do you want to tell me?"</p><p>She slows down, carefully enunciating her words to make sure Nick hears exactly what she says next. "My roommate is Jess."</p><p>His elbow slips off the counter and he almost, almost bites his tongue off as his chin falls onto the hard surface. "What?"</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p><p>Nick's voice is strained when it comes out. "I'm fine. What did you say?"</p><p>"I'm moving in with Jess." Reagan pauses, and the silence is both familiar and deeply uncomfortable. "I came here to tell you but then you changed the subject and— are you sure you're okay? You're going cross-eyed."</p><p>That must explain the blurring. Nick screws his eyes shut until they start to feel normal. "You and Jess are moving in together, here in LA, the two of you?"</p><p>"Names on the lease."</p><p>Reagan's eyes study him coolly, trying to read into his reactions. She tentatively reaches across the bar and gives Nick an awkward pat on the shoulder. "We move in this weekend. I had a feeling no one told you."</p><p> </p><p>It's an awkward conversation when his friends tell him they already know.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Jessica Day is coming back to LA, and it's way earlier than expected, because Reagan (of all people! Reagan Lucas!) asked Jess to move in with her. But Nick doesn't actually care about it <em>that much</em> because all that really matters is that Jessica Day is coming back to LA.</p><p>The only other person more excited than him is Cece, and Nick only relents on that because she threatened him very creatively when he said that he was probably — definitely — happier to see Jess than she was. To prove her point, Cece arranges a whole homecoming dinner party.</p><p>Pregnant Cece is legitimately terrifying and Nick does not understand how Schmidt can keep his smile on every day without breaking. (If Jess was pregnant, she would probably be less— hold that thought right there, Nick Miller.)</p><p> </p><p>Of course, if anyone can go toe to toe against pregnant Cece, it would be Reagan. She and Cece fight in the living room over who'll get to pick Jess up from the airport. It's entertaining, or at least Schmidt and Reagan's date seem to think so. Nick considers throwing his hat in the ring for a moment, but two icy glares and he backs off quickly and quietly. He learned very early in his life when to run away.</p><p>The argument goes on for so long that Aly is able to sneak off and drive all the way to the airport with no one even noticing. </p><p> </p><p>"Everyone!" Winston yells in a voice that's half cop Winston and half Theodore K. Mullins. Reagan and Cece straighten up immediately from their game of cold potato with Cece's car keys. (What else do you call the opposite of hot potato? It's cold potato.) "Aly just called and she and Jess are on the way."</p><p>There are a few murmurs from Cece and Reagan as they rearrange themselves back, recovering from their strangely passionate argument with a couple of apologies to each other. Reagan settles herself down on the couch next to her girlfriend, who laughs and teases her for getting into a fight with a pregnant and scarily aggressive woman.</p><p>Reagan has easily picked herself back up from her break-up with Nick. It helps probably that she didn't spend her summer lamenting that she's probably in love with Jessica Day. But it's weird anyway seeing Reagan folded up on the (very shitty) couch with another girl, and they're smiling and talking to each other. That was never a thing he and Reagan did when they were together, and honestly the only person he can see himself doing that with is Jess.</p><p>He's an idiot, but what else is new?</p><p> </p><p>For the first time in weeks, Nick sees her again, and every old ache in his chest lights up.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes wander first and <em>oh god why does she have to look the way she does</em>. Her hair looks darker, or maybe it's just the light. But she's still beautiful, maybe even more than he's allowed himself to remember.</p><p>"Hey, Nick."</p><p>Her voice is soft, apprehensive yet friendly. Maybe she isn't sure of how he'd react. They stand there, observing each other. Nick stares for the longest time, still trying to believe that she's actually there. Jess smiles up at him with all the brightness he's been missing all summer, and he can't speak. When he tries, his voice gets lost somewhere between his stomach and his lips.</p><p>Why can't he just talk to her? It's not like he <em>doesn't</em> have a million things he can say. And why can't she just look at him, like a normal person, with normal eyes and a normal shade of blue? It would make him feel less... guilty. Why does he feel guilty anyway? He isn't the one who left without a goodbye and then never called him.</p><p>Speaking of which, she left without a goodbye and never called him. Does she really think they'll fall back into step after that? What does she even want from him?</p><p>He tries to reel in his apparent anger, but he can't seem to find it in him. He's not angry, he just feels... fine. He's doing perfectly fine. So why can't he stop looking at her? And why does it matter?</p><p>Jess reaches out and grabs his wrist, takes him into a hug. She holds on for longer than he thinks she should, but he doesn't pull away. He breathes her in. Why won't she stop touching him?</p><p>"Hey, Day," he manages with a smile, finally pulls away. Jess smiles back at him and his heart explodes, there's really no better way to say it. Jessica Day is just <em>it</em> for him, she has to be.</p><p>And then Cece swoops in and that's the last he sees of Jess.</p><p> </p><p>(There is no alcohol. Cece can't drink because she's pregnant, and you know babies shouldn't drink alcohol even indirectly. Schmidt's natural response to this is to prevent everyone else from drinking out of sympathy. Nick spends a good chunk of the night longingly staring at their liquor cabinet.</p><p>The rest he spends longingly staring at Jess.)</p><p> </p><p>At the end of the night, Nick goes back home.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Of all places Jess finds him, it's her old bedroom. It's been transformed into a storage space, except most of the storage is already in Schmidt's old room so it's just empty aside from a few boxes here and there. Between Winston, Aly, and Nick's new friend Pepperwood, they can afford the rent without adding a new roommate into the mix.</p><p>He stands by the window watching the street. Somehow he misses the exact moment Jessica Day walks into the building. Nick's eyes are almost always looking for Jess, he's resigned himself to that fact, but just this once they fail him until she's right behind him.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, Miller."</p><p>Nick's head whips back, because there she is standing at the open door. He makes several false starts, opening his mouth but still failing to speak. He knows exactly where his voice is, but can't think of a thing to say. Jess walks into the room. Her hands are behind her back, hiding something from him.</p><p>"I know it's getting late and the party's over but, I never congratulated you about getting published." She grins at him, pulling a green bottle out from behind her. "So I think I owe you a bottle of champagne. You should know how proud of you I am." And Nick can't help it, his eyes go wide and Jess gives him this goofy smile.</p><p>He pushes off from the wall, rushes forward and grasps the bottle carefully. Nick figures she must have nabbed a bottle from the Schmidts' neglected liquor cabinet, but she didn't because Nick is very familiar now with all of the liquor his friend has on display. This is some good, cold and expensive champagne that he's holding.</p><p>"Let me go get some cups—"</p><p>Jess's hand lands on his sleeve, the barest touch of pinky on his wrist. "We can just drink out of the bottle."</p><p>That's how they end up in the middle of her old bedroom, leaning on boxes and taking turns sipping a bottle of good champagne.</p><p> </p><p>They talk and keep talking, about anything and everything and nothing at all. They trade stories, though there isn't anything Jess hasn't heard already. Somewhere during their conversation, she had moved a little closer, right on the edge of him. It's distracting but he still listens.</p><p> </p><p>"I got your messages, by the way," Jess's voice is small when she says it. "I want to say sorry, for this whole summer, for leaving without telling you. I'm very sorry, Nick."</p><p>Nick takes another sip of the champagne. "You don't have to apologize, Jess. It's fine." It comes out quieter than he means it to.</p><p>He smiles a little, and she smiles back. The only sweat he feels is the condensation on the bottle.</p><p> </p><p>It ends in a quiet between the two of them, passing a battle back and forth with nothing to say. It's odd how her silence doesn't make him uncomfortable or desperate for words to fill it. It's nice how she reads his silence just as well as she reads his words. (His best friend, this girl, this part of him he would always look for, always miss.)</p><p> </p><p>Jess brushes her bangs a little as she stands up. "I have to go."</p><p>The bottle feels a little more empty in his hands. "You should stay."</p><p>It sounds pathetic, to be honest. He sounds pathetic. But he can't help saying it, is the thing, and it's not because he's wobbling a little too hard into champagne drunk. The past few weeks, he's only had Voicemail Jess. He already feels like he can say anything to Voicemail Jess. The real, physical Jessica Day is a lot more potent.</p><p>"You should move back in," he says.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Nick shrugs. Clearly, he's already made things worse, you know. Why not go all the way? "Winston and Aly are getting married. They'll be moving out soon. Then it'll just be me here. And then I'll just keep buying new dishes because I can't wash the old ones."</p><p>Jess looks at him with a sparkle in her eye, a laugh, a bit of disbelief.</p><p>"And, you know," he gestures vaguely at the walls. "I don't want to be the one to give Furguson his butt pill. Yeah, I know Winston will probably take his cat with him when he moves out, but then there's this other girl in the building who I think also owns Furguson. And they'll probably have to have this weird custody agreement and that means the cat has to stay in the loft with me."</p><p>"What are you talking about?"</p><p>And worse he continues to make things. "I'm just saying, summer vacation is over, Jess."</p><p>It's a metaphor. It's clearly a metaphor.</p><p>"Vacation?" Jess says incredulously. "Nick, is that what you think this is? Like, like I'll just run back to you, to the loft? I moved out, Nick."</p><p>"And you didn't tell me!" And okay, maybe he isn't as 'fine' with it as he says. "That wasn't fair, Jess. You left! And you didn't even say goodbye!"</p><p>"I <em>just</em> apologized for that! I've felt bad about it constantly! I was dumb and a coward and—"</p><p>"I just came home to your <em>empty</em> room. And it's also not fair that you didn't even talk to me, Jess! Cece, I understand, but—"</p><p>They're indignant now, yelling at and over each other. It's familiar, at least. Nick knows he can do this. This is a fight where whatever they say doesn't really matter. Neither one of them is listening, not even to themselves. The bottle of champagne stays quickly forgotten on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>"Nick, I don't know why you're mad at me!" But Jess has been away for too long. She used to be able to tell when Nick was mad.</p><p>"I wish I was mad!" And he really does. She was the one who left without a goodbye, who stayed in touch with all their friends but him. He wishes he could be mad at her for that, but it's overshadowed by how ridiculously happy he is that she's back and she's talking to him.</p><p>He tries to storm out towards his room, but Jess intercepts him. She stands in his way. He moves and she follows, right in front of him the one time he doesn't want her there. The world has its own brand of twisted irony.</p><p>Nick huffs angrily, looking down to meet her eyes and <em>oh god maybe he should not have done that.</em> Because Jess is right there, closest that she's ever been in months. He wants and doesn't want distance, run out of the door, get away. And sure, she's blocking his way out, but there are so many other places to go. There's the trusty old window where he first saw Jess. He's climbed out of that window before.</p><p>Nick learned from his father not to take risks, but what is he running from now, what is he gambling with? The possibility that Jess would run away? She already did that. And he survived it, barely, but he did.</p><p> </p><p>Nick plants his hands on the sides of Jess's face and he leans forward to kiss her.</p><p>Her hands climb up to his shoulders, his neck, his cheek. It lasts only a few seconds, gentle but as breathtaking as he remembers.</p><p>He pulls away, pauses, gazes into her blue eyes that have gone wide with surprise. It's an easier shade now. Nick leans his forehead on hers, hands skimming on her jaw, cradling her head. Their noses bump and neither one of them smile.</p><p>See, he isn't mad at all.</p><p>"I'm just too late." He whispers into the air she breathes. His arms fall limply to his side and Jess stands there, clearly dazed. He gently pushes past her, takes the few steps towards the door of the loft.</p><p>He stops, sighs, and walks away.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>When she hears the front door close, she finally takes a breath, and that's when the goosebumps come.</p>
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